


and darling (this thing that breaks my heart)

by carolinecrane



Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, Established Relationship, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 14:58:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being partners means having each other's backs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and darling (this thing that breaks my heart)

Warren was eleven years old when the first spark flew out of his fingertips. An early bloomer, his mom said, with a heavy sigh like maybe she’d been hoping he wouldn’t get any powers at all. There were times when Warren wished that too, when the legacy of his father weighed just a little too heavy, and he got tired of trying to live down the stigma of being the only son of Barron Battle.

He remembered the moment he first figured out what his power was going to be, remembers the buzz of energy just under his skin and the weirdness of being on fire without feeling the heat. After that he spent hours playing with fire, lighting matches and putting them out with his fingers, or holding his hand over a candle flame just to see if it would still burn.

But it never did, and by the time he got to Sky High he figured he’d never feel what it was like to be burned again.

“Again.”

The brand hits him on the thigh this time, ice cold and searing into his skin, and Warren doesn’t quite bite back a hiss at the sensation. He concentrates his power on the spot, sending a rush of warmth to compensate for the freezing sensation burning into him. And he knew ice could burn just as fierce as fire, but until now he never really gave it much thought.

“How does that feel?” a voice asks, and Warren narrows his eyes in the direction of the sound without managing to catch a glimpse of its owner.

He hasn’t seen any of their faces; there are at least two other people in the room, wearing identical white coats and some kind of cover over their faces. Every once in a while they sway into his vision just enough for him to see a flash of white or even a hand, but mostly they’re just voices in the stark light of what Warren thinks is some kind of operating room.

“Not as good as it’s going to feel when I get off this table and set you on fire,” Warren snarls, focusing as hard as he can on pushing his power out through his hands. But they’re blocking him somehow, holding his power inside him so he can’t do more than warm his skin a little, dulling the worst of the chill every time they press freezing metal against his flesh.

The only answer he gets is a truly irritating ‘hmm’, then the sound of a pen scratching on paper, and he can’t believe they’re taking fucking _notes_.

“Again,” the voice says, and Warren clenches his jaw and braces for the burn of cold metal against his skin. The burn he never thought he’d feel again, and it’s pretty funny if he stops to think about it. Warren lets out a laugh, hoarse and sort of choked, and the voice says, “interesting,” and writes something else on his clipboard.

Warren seriously can’t wait to torch the fucking clipboard.

He’s not sure how long it goes on for. For a while he tries to keep track of time, but the longer he lies there, breathing through the sudden, sharp bursts of pain, the more he loses track of everything except the sound of his harsh breathing and the sting of his skin everywhere the metal’s touched him. The one with the clipboard’s writing faster now, and Warren’s pretty sure that means he’s finally giving them the reaction they wanted all along.

Not that he’s figured out what that is or anything, but he’s guessing their main goal is to see how long it will take to kill him. He’s pretty sure they’re close to finding out, because his vision’s starting to fade and he can feel his whole body convulsing, the metal restraints cutting further and further into his skin.

He’s trying to ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him how much easier this would be if he’d just let himself black out when there’s a loud crash, then the whole room shakes and Warren fights back through the darkness swimming behind his vision.

He loses track of the white coats, but he can hear them scuffling around, maybe heading for whatever hidden exit – and there’s _always_ a hidden exit – they’ve got stashed around here. Then another crash, louder this time, and footsteps pounding on the floor of the lab. He hears Zach’s voice, probably lighting the way, Magenta sniping in answer and Will’s parents right behind them, and Warren’s never been so glad to hear anyone until a second later when warm hands land on his chest, and Will’s voice sounds in his ear.

“Warren,” Will says, fingers sliding along his skin like maybe he’s wishing his superpower was healing. “Warren, come on. I’m here, baby, it’s okay.”

“I told you not to call me that,” Warren says, but his voice sounds ragged and far away, and when Will lets out a breath and presses his forehead to Warren’s shoulder, he knows Will can hear it.

He stays like that for a few beats before he straightens up again, lips brushing the bare skin on Warren’s shoulder before his hands move to the restraints around Warren’s wrists. Will snaps them like they’re made of paper, and yeah, Warren gets it, he’s technically superhero royalty or whatever, but it still pisses him off a little that his boyfriend’s so much stronger than him.

But it comes in handy sometimes, so he doesn’t complain when Will reaches for his ankles and pulls him free of those restraints too. He helps Warren sit up, hands still moving on his skin, and Warren has to bite back a hiss when Will’s fingers press against the spot where they burned his leg a few times in a row, just to see if they could break him.

Will makes a sound in the back of his throat like he’s dying, and Warren’s not sure why, because he’s alive, and that was the goal here. Except then he looks down at his thigh, at the angry red burned deep into his skin, and yeah, that’s probably going to leave a mark. It still stings like a bitch, too, and maybe it’s adrenaline, but Warren doesn’t really mind. Later on he’ll have time to think about that, to wonder if there’s something wrong with him for kind of liking the fact that he can still feel some kind of burn.

But he’s not thinking about it right now; right now he’s reaching out to fist his hand in Will’s hair, pulling him forward and staring at him for a second before he presses their lips together and kisses Will hard. A hand comes up to press against his bare chest, fingers splayed on his skin and Warren doesn’t even mind when Will’s thumb catches the edge of another burn.

“Thanks for the save,” he says when he lets Will up again, pressing their foreheads together for a second before he lets Will go.

“Always,” Will says, like the total chick he is, and Warren laughs against his mouth and doesn’t shove him away.

“Don’t suppose you brought a change of clothes with you,” Warren says, but he already knows the answer.

“Sorry,” Will answers as he helps Warren off the table, taking most of his weight and Warren would be embarrassed about the fact that his super-strong boyfriend is basically carrying him if his legs didn’t hurt so goddamn bad.

“What about the bad guys?” he asks when Will leads him back the way he came, because there’s a part of Warren that was really attached to the idea of setting the fuckers on fire, superhero code be damned.

“Dad’s got it under control,” Will answers, which means his dad wants the credit, which, fine, he can have it. Warren’s never been in it for the glory anyway; mostly he’s in it for Will, not that Will needs to know it or anything.

Which is how he finds himself being led out of some seriously fucked mad scientist’s secret lab in his boxer briefs when the cameras start to go off. Layla e-mails him a copy of the front page shot every week for a _year_ , which...yeah, she’s totally still not over him stealing her boyfriend.

But it’s a small price to pay, and anyway it’s not even the first time Will’s saved his ass, so Warren’s getting pretty used to it. It kind of goes with the whole ‘dating a Stronghold’ territory, he figures, and he’ll take the blow to his image if it means Will’s going to keep showing up when Warren needs him.


End file.
